Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Eritrea and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Beau Brummels to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Joe Finger,
Reuben Wilson,
Mars,
Kurtis Blow,
Unwound,
The Human League,
Rufus Thomas,
Derrick May,
Angry Samoans,
Quadrant,
Robert Görl,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Doors,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Juan Atkins,
Aloha Tigers,
Scratch Acid,
The Pretty Things,
The Durutti Column,
MDC,
Charles Mingus,
Albert Ayler,
Marc Almond,
Stetsasonic,
Babytalk,
Lucky Dragons,
Tears for Fears,
Wire,
Young Marble Giants,
Alphaville,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Masters at Work,
Michelle Simonal,
John Cale,
OOIOO,
H. Thieme,
Blossom Toes,
Joyce Sims,
Wally Richardson,
Jerry's Kids,
John Holt,
Sun Ra,
Stereo Dub,
Pantaleimon,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Royal Trux,
Parry Music,
Hoover,
Nas,
The Gories,
Wolf Eyes,
The Names,
Yusef Lateef,
The Cramps,
Marmalade,
Japan,
Pussy Galore,
Severed Heads,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Josef K,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.